To-Do List
by shippingslut
Summary: What happens when things in Alexandria start coming together and Rick has time to spare? Smut-tastic Richonne one-shot.


Rick's long list of things to accomplish was shortening at an alarming rate. And pretty soon, there'd be nothing left. By some grace of God, Alexandria had been tragedy free for the last few weeks, allowing them the time to finally get most of the major tasks he'd set for the community complete. The walls were being re-enforced, schedules were created for future runs, plans were in place to extend their crops. Even the most clueless of residents were beginning to warm up to the weapons training Rick had been over seeing for the last few days.

It was almost unbelievable. When Deanna had first instructed them all to follow his lead, there had been resistance. But finally, things were falling into place. The people were falling in line, and everything was coming together so smoothly that lately all Rick could do was sit back in amazement.

And at first the easy life had been a welcome vacation. Rick would spend his days overseeing various projects or lending a helping hand where it was needed, then come home and eat dinner with his kids before collapsing into his bed. His body had needed the time off. When things had first started to settle down, he'd graciously spent his free time resting, giving himself the break he'd been long over due for. Even with the easier days, most nights when his head hit the pillow, Rick still managed to immediately fall into a dreamless sleep, his body making up for all the lost time.

But eventually his body grew tired of being tired.

After laying down Judith, Rick and Carl had stayed up a little longer, playing cards like they always did. It was a nightly ritual that usually helped Rick wind down, but this time when Carl threw his hand on the coffee table and called it quits, Rick's body was still burning with energy.

"That's it, you're done?" Rick asked his son, tossing his own cards on the table in defeat.

Not that it really mattered, he was losing anyway.

"Dad, it's after midnight." Carl answered, his eyes darting to the clock hanging over the mantel in disbelief.

They were both sitting on the floor, facing each other. And Rick tried to not let his disappointment show. Usually they called it quits much earlier and it wasn't until Rick looked at his son that he realized how very wide awake he was in comparison to the boy. Carl's eyes were red, his hair a tousled mess. It looked like it was taking him every bit of effort he had to sit up straight.

And yawns were supposed to be contagious. But when Carl masked a large one behind a lazy hand, Rick didn't feel anything. In fact, it only called attention to the fact that Rick's body wasn't aching and burning to be stretched out like it usually was. If it hadn't been for his son's exhaustion, Rick could have kept going.

"We could play something else. Anything." Rick suggested, not quite knowing what to do with himself.

It was a suggestion that was met with an eye roll from Carl, who was already standing up and stretching his legs.

"Aren't parents supposed to look forward to when the kids go to bed?"

Of course Carl was right. Once upon a time him and Lori had been practically giddy when they'd tuck their son into bed at night, finally getting those few quiet blissful hours to do whatever it was that they did back then. And just like Rick couldn't really remember what him and his dead wife used to do when left to their own devices, he had no idea what to do with himself anymore either.

Free time simply didn't exist anymore. It wasn't something he'd ever had to worry about. There'd always been a threat looming over them, some type of worry hanging over his head, or a list of jobs to complete.

Now though? All he had was a bored teenager staring him in the face, realizing how utterly pathetic his father was.

"Dad, maybe you should get a hobby."

Rick just laughed, scratching at the stubble on his chin, knowing that Carl was right. He did need a hobby. He needed something.

"Isn't there anything you've been meaning to get around to, once things finally settled down?" Carl asked, looking at him like he was helpless, sighing when there was no answer. "There has to be something."

As soon as the words were out of Carl's mouth, Rick knew exactly what that something was. Hell, they probably all did.

Michonne.

How long had he been promising himself that once things calmed down that maybe he'd finally man up? That he'd finally stop looking away when she stared into his eyes, that the next time she reached out for his hand, he'd be sure to squeeze hers in return?

But Rick most definitely wasn't going to tell Carl that. While he was positive his son seen it coming too, some things were best left unsaid. And telling Carl that what Rick really wanted to do was the woman Carl had come to see a mother figure would have sent him running out of the room, and rightfully so. Instead, Rick said absolutely nothing, giving his son a weak shrug.

"Well, think about it." Carl told him, shaking his head like he was the parent before finally heading towards his bedroom.

* * *

It wasn't until after a hot shower and a cold beer that Rick really allowed himself to take Carl's advice and think about it, though. Once inside his own bedroom, he stripped down to his boxer briefs, crawled into bed, and stared at the ceiling, finally letting his thoughts run away, helped along by the small buzz he had. With the fan twirling over his head and just enough alcohol in his veins, it was easy to find the bright side to not immediately going to sleep. Because finally, he had the time to lose himself in his thoughts, to actually fantasize.

And Michonne was in every last one of them.

There'd been a time when Rick's idea of daring to dream was imagining a safe place for his family, plenty of food to eat, and sturdy walls to protect them. But he had that now in that Alexandria. Maybe it wouldn't last forever, but he felt secure enough to stretch his imagination a little more, to allow himself to fantasize about what happened now that his previous dreams had come true. And of course, his brain immediately went to her. But it always did.

Getting lost in the steady hum of the fan, Rick laid in bed, imaging what it would be like if Michonne was finally beside him.

He had no doubt she wanted to be there. He wasn't an overly confident man, at least not when it came to women, but his gut told him that if he could read her mind, he'd find the same fantasies in her head too. And he trusted his gut. It was usually right, even if he somehow always managed to fuck up what it was telling him that he needed to.

Either way, Rick was positive that when he pictured her warm body next to his in that bed, that Michonne wouldn't have objected. Not even if she knew he was imaging how good it would feel for her to wrap one of those strong legs around his waist, claiming him as her own. Maybe then he'd finally be able to run his hand down her body, to finally squeeze the ass he was always watching walk out of rooms, before stroking his way down her leg. He was certain she'd encourage the touch. In both his fantasy and in reality. Maybe she'd moan, hell, maybe he would too. And when he finally grabbed her chin and pressed his lips against hers, she'd be welcome that as well, her lips would yield to his when his tongue finally plunged deep inside her mouth.

And just like in his fantasy, Rick could already feel the arousal starting to stir in his body as he laid there, all alone.

Not that it took much anymore for the fire in his gut to ignite.

It was something else that had sadly been on his mental list of things to accomplish. To just get off. As silly as it sounded, it was true. At the prison he'd always been too crazy, too tired, too depressed - too something, to even consider his own needs. Hell, he'd had no libido. Even when they'd been on the road, sex had once again been pushed to the back burner. Just like it always had, until recently.

Still, it was strange to find himself wanting to do something so normal.

But there was no sleeping baby in his room anymore, no visions of a dead woman, absolutely nothing stopping him when he finally reached down and rubbed his hand over the bulge that was already starting to grow in his boxers. And that single touch was like adding fuel to the flames, making the tension in his stomach travel straight down, until his cock was rigid and tight, pleading for him to continue.

Not that it was hard to pick up where he'd left off.

Stroking himself over the thin fabric, never one to rush a good thing, Rick closed his eyes and imagined it was Michonne's hand instead that was soothing that ache for him, her expert fingers that were finally freeing his cock, giving him harsh, steady strokes as soon his underwear came off. And it was easier without any restrictions. Nor were there any restrictions in his mind. Instead of her hand Rick imagined how good it would feel if she rolled on top of him instead, if her thighs wrapped around his waist, clenching him tight. He loved it when Michonne's face lit up in a smile, but this time it'd be scrunched in pleasure, just as beautiful, but slightly more vulnerable than he'd ever saw her.

But he didn't want to get to ahead of himself.

Instead he slowed his pace, working himself in slow, tense strokes, his grip on his cock just as tight as his balls. And if Michonne were really there on top of him, Rick knew she'd be just ready, just as wet. That when she grinded her hips down on him, he'd feel her slick juices coating him, gearing him up for the moment when she allowed him inside of her. And just like her excitement would be coming to a head, his was too.

Using his free hand, he cupped his balls, giving them a rough squeeze, rewarding himself with agonizing pleasure and a few drops of cum from head of his cock. Still, he didn't stop. Increasing the speed of his wrist, he worked himself tight and hard with his eyes still clenched tight, his hips rising off the bed, chasing the release he was approaching.

Lost in the fantasy, he finally allowed himself to imagine the moment when Michonne's hips rose and finally settled again once he was buried inside of her. Maybe he was that far gone, maybe the beer he'd had was to blame, but he could practically hear her moans when he considered how he'd fill her, how instead of rolling his hips into his own hand, he'd be pushing inside of her instead.

Or maybe it was his own moans he was hearing.

Rick bit his lip, trying to control himself.

But it was a wasted effort. He was too close, it'd been too long. His strokes were greedy now, his inhibitions gone. Not there was need for any, he was alone. As much as he hated to admit it, Michonne was just that, a fantasy in his head. But it was that fantasy that made his cock searing hot in his palm, aching no matter how hard he stroked himself now. No matter how fast he worked his wrist, it didn't feel like enough. Even if he blew his load right there in his own palm, it wouldn't be nearly as gratifying as the real thing.

And it was that desperation that finally made her name come tumbling past his lips, his eyes opening as he looked down and seen how tightly the skin on his cock was stretched, how very erect he stood.

He was almost there.

Rick could feel the pressure in his body about to boil over, could feel the moment his dick stiffened in his hand, finally about give him the one thing he needed. Release.

Knowing he was about to get there, Rick finally looked up, his pounding heart practically stopping in his chest when he realized it.

That his bedroom was open.

That the woman he'd just been imagining riding him into ecstasy was standing there, with wide eyes and an open mouth.

And that was all it took for him to stop his efforts, for time to freeze. Even the sweat on his forehead refused to drip into his eyes, refusing to distract him for the horrifying situation he'd suddenly found himself in. Instead all he could was lay there with his painfully hard cock in his hand, gasping for breath, praying for the right words.

Words that never came. All Rick would do was stare at Michonne as she stood there, dressed in a tank top and shorts, fresh from the shower and quite obviously shocked to have discovered him judging by the disbelief on her beautiful face, by the way she hadn't shut the door and left yet.

He wasn't sure if he should apologize or die.

Dying felt like the better option, especially considering how long it took him to finally gain control of his limbs, enough to throw his blanket over himself, wiping the sweat away from his forehead all while Michonne just stood there, still not moving a muscle. Rick may have been the one in the awkward position but she looked just as surprised, her brown eyes twinkling with mischief at the sight of what she'd stumbled upon.

And it took her forever to speak. At least it felt like forever to Rick, even if it wasn't. Because if it had been forever, his dick wouldn't still be twitching against his stomach, objecting to the abrupt stop. No, Rick had been so very close that his body refused to behave, taking every ounce of willpower he had not to reach his hand under that blanket and jerk himself a few more times just to ease the ache. But he wouldn't dare. Not with Michonne still hovering in the door way, finally shutting his bedroom door behind herself.

Rick had honestly expected her to leave him be. But then again, he'd never expected her to just walk in either. Much less for her stay, for her eyes to have traveled the length of his body before he'd had enough sense to cover up. With the door shut, she leaned against it and Rick could feel her stare digging into him, waiting for him to look at her. But he refused. Instead he laid there, panting, not sure if he wanted her to stay or go.

"You said my name."

Even after her statement, Rick still couldn't find it in himself to look up.

He felt like he'd been busted in the absolute worst way, made even worse by the hard-on under the blanket that was still begging for attention. It made concentrating harder, especially when the object of his desires was standing right there, wearing the most revealing clothes he'd ever seen her in, ones that hugged every inch, every curve. And the icing on the cake was that overall, she was seemingly undisturbed by the sight in front of her.

"Your door was cracked and I heard you say my name. " Michonne said again, her voice growing more steady by the moment. "I thought something might be wrong."

Rick just shook his head, knowing damn well that his entire body was probably blushing. The blood wasn't just pumping to his dick anymore, although that part of him was still agonizing, still refusing to relent.

"Musta been hearin' things."

It was all he could manage to get out of his lips as he stared away from her.

"I wasn't hearin' things." Michonne answered, emphasizing the last word, repeating it back to him in his own southern drawl.

And it was that, that small playful act spoken with laughter in her voice that finally made Rick look her way. For him to meet her eyes, to truly realize that the woman looking back at him looked anything but angry.

In fact, when she took a few steps towards him, she wore a cheeky, knowing smile ,one that grew even wider when Rick had to swallow hard just to calm himself. He'd seen that look on Michonne's face plenty of times in the past. Usually when he'd proven himself wrong and her right, in the process. Just like what he'd just been doing. Assuming the time wasn't right, thinking the moment when he could finally make a move would never come. But Michonne of course knew better, she always did. And not until she stopped right next to his bed did he finally look up again, his blue eyes pleading with hers to take it easy on him.

Because the fact that she hadn't left yet when she'd literally just caught him pleasuring himself was enough to make his heart pound his chest, for the arousal that was still strong to only strengthen.

There he was, in bed with nothing but a blanket separating his cock from Michonne and she was just standing there. If his fantasies had gotten the best of him moments before, it was even worse then. The damn woman knew he was hard, knew how very desperate he was. And instead of pretending like nothing was going on, what they always did, she had invited herself inside his bedroom. He could feel her gaze move from his face and back down his body, practically burning his flesh when her eyes landed on the bulge underneath that blanket.

"You want me to leave?" She asked.

Her question was all it took really, for Rick to realize how very close he was to what he'd just been imaging his head.

All he had to do was answer, and his to-do list would be finished as far as he was concerned. There wasn't much more he wanted in life except her and with a simple "no", she'd stay. And every fantasy he'd ever had would be brought to life. Not just the ones that were still making his body pulse with need, but the others too. That was on his mind just much. Like how after he finally got to hear what she sounded like when he was inside of her, he'd also finally know how warm her body would feel afterwards wrapped in his. How he'd finally be able to greedily inhale her scent, wake up next to her in the morning, and everyday after.

"Well?"

Michonne was getting tired of his hesitance and so was Rick's body. His cock was still aching, painfully hard, having been so close to unloading only to be denied.

And the moment Michonne slipped her tank top over her head, standing there in just her bra, Rick finally realized he wasn't going to be denied any longer.

"This is what you want, isn't it?"

The question come out as barely a whisper, a teasing twinkle in her eye as her hands reached behind her back and un-clasped her bra, letting it fall to the floor.

And that was enough.

Enough for Rick to pull the blanket off, meeting her eyes. And when he looked away it wasn't because he was too afraid of what she'd see anymore, but because he wanted to drink her in, he needed to drink her in. Standing topless in front of him, Rick couldn't help but give his cock one stroke as she watched, trying to ease the pain he felt as he looked at her, no longer shy. What he felt as he stared at her full chest was primal, making his mouth water, his eyes trained on her nipples, small and taut, already stiff, just waiting on him.

And she was waiting on him.

Rick could feel her watching as his hand rubbed over his cock one last time before sitting up, tearing his stare from the feast in front of him and back to her face instead.

"C'mere."

It was all he said, all he had to say. Spoken rough and needy, more demanding than he'd meant.

When she took that last step towards him, Rick's hands immediately went her hips, his mouth to her flat stomach, his lips landing soft, patient kisses to her sweet skin. He could feel her breath quicken under his touch, her hands going straight into his hair, pulling him closer. When he slowly began inching down the tiny pair of shorts she was wearing, he'd cover each newly revealed spot of flesh with his lips, lapping up every piece of her he could get. She whimpered when his hands wrapped around her, gripping her ass, his fingertips digging in with the same need every other part of him felt.

The moment he stopped and let go, Michonne actually arched her hips towards him, begging for him to continue.

And the second she finished removing her shorts and panties, stepping out of them, Rick heard himself groan, a long rugged sound that was barely recognizable to his own ears.

He wanted to let his eyes feast upon every last inch of her, but the sight was too tempting. Even her scent - already filling the small room was calling him to action, much less the curve of her full hips or the small patch of curls that awaited his mouth. Not that they had to wait for long. After one quick glance up at the woman standing in front of him, Rick went right back to where he'd left off, covering her glistening skin in his kisses, leaving no spot untouched. He wanted to take his time. To memorize every inch of her to his fingertips, every taste, every moan.

As patiently as their bodies would allow, he started at her belly button and kissed down, licking and biting as he went, Michonne's hands on his shoulders tightening the further south he got, using him for support. With his hands still working over her tight ass, he could feel her breathing getting heavy, her anticipation growing.

And the moment his lips were about to reach the spot she needed him the most, Rick stopped.

Not that he wanted to. If anything Rick couldn't wait to dive in, to lean in and run his tongue between her lips, to taste the fluid he already knew he'd find.

"Please..."

The word passed her lips in a moan, the reaction he'd wanted. The one that made his own body respond, for the ache inside him to build so quickly he had to close his eyes for a second, the sound making every part of him burn.

But Rick wasn't going to deny her. Meeting Michonne's eyes, he looked up and watched the pleasure take shape on her face the moment his lips met hers. He stared her down, daring her to break the contact as his tongue eased between them, nice and slow, savoring the tangy flavor. And just when she looked like she was about to shut her eyelids and give into it, Rick stroked her once again, this time even slower, drawing out a whimper like nothing he'd ever heard.

If it hadn't been for the way her mouth opened, breathless, her lavish lips quivering, Rick might have pulled her on top of him then and there.

His own body was aching too just watching the effect he had on her while he lapped up her juices, tortuously slow, making her legs shake and her body sweat.

But he didn't trust himself. Rick knew the moment his cock plunged inside of Michone's walls, already so wet, that he'd lose it. And quick. Already he could feel his cock beginning to drip again from the efforts he was putting into her, throbbing each and every time another whimper escaped her mouth.

When the tip of his tongue grazed past her clit, her grip on his hair tightened, the muscles in her thighs clenched.

"Stop." Michonne panted.

Her words said one thing but her body said another. Rick knew she was getting close too. The scent in the air was proof, the way with each new flick on his tongue, she pleaded with him again.

"Please...stop."

She didn't want to reach her peak yet, Rick knew that. And he didn't want her too either, but he wanted her close. So close that she was willing to beg. And sure enough, as soon as his tongue began flicking over her clit, unrelenting, he felt her tremble, the next words out of her mouth music to his ears.

"Don't stop."

And only then did he stop.

When he pulled away, she was a shaking mess. But so was he.

Still, he ran a finger through her slit just as she started to catch her breath, his cock pulsing when he realized how truly wet she was, the proof in the way the sounds filled the air. Not being able to control himself, he pushed two thick fingers inside of her and immediately Rick could feel her walls throbbing, ready for the same thing he was. Ready for his fantasy to become his reality.

"Rick..."

It was a plea.

And Rick couldn't have helped himself if he'd tried. This moment had been building for far too long, and she'd always been the aggressor. Finally, it was his turn. Something else he'd been meaning to do.

Grabbing her hands, he pulled her on top of him as he laid back again, not believing what was actually happening. Just like in his imagination, Michonne's thighs clenched tight around his waist, her hands quickly found his body, running her fingers down and over the hair on his chest.

And having her slick warmth pressed right against his dick almost made him forget what he was about to say, especially when she grinded down against him, forcing his cock to twitch.

"Heard you say my name." He finally managed to get out, all the while his own hands found her tits, his thumbs stroking her nipples until she moaned. "I thought something might be wrong."

"Fuck you."

Her reply was said with the sass he was accustomed to, humor that made the smirk on his own face grow.

"That's what I'm about to do."

And God was he ready. Grabbing her hips, he lifted her up, and instead of giving Michonne a moment to even brace herself for it, his grip tightened, yanking her back down on top of him, burying his cock inside of her. And the moment his was wrapped in her wet cunt, Rick sat up until they were chest to chest, holding her in place and rocked his hips again.

Even he hadn't quite been prepared for the pleasure that he felt. How snug of a fit she was, how very wet, how with every roll of his hips her pussy throbbed around him. With her arms wrapped around his neck, Michonne let him hold her still as he moved inside, drawing moans and whimpers out of them both, neither of them ever looking away from the other as his fingertips dug into the flesh on her hips.

Rick could feel the moment that her climax started to approach.

When with every stroke of his cock, her walls fluttered, her pants louder. But he needed her there quicker.

Already his balls were swollen and tight, pounding as they rubbed against her wet skin. No mattered how hard he pushed her hips down, how much pressure he added to the friction between their sweaty bodies, it didn't feel like enough. Or maybe it felt like too much. Overwhelmingly good but nothing would be quite as good as the moment he got to let go, an event that was getting closer and closer each time their hips rocked in unison.

Moving his hands to her face, Rick finally did what he'd waited years to do.

He kissed her.

Not soft and gentle like he always imagined it be, but hungry and rough, pushing his tongue into Michonne's welcoming mouth, milking a moan from deep inside of her gut. Still, he never decreased his efforts, rolling his hips in a brutally hard rhythm, the same rhythm he used to stroke his tongue against hers.

And it was enough.

Michonne reacted almost instantly to the embrace, overcome by being pleasured in two spots at once.

Her walls squeezed him tight, her hips arching to meet his in hasty need, finally getting the release she'd been chasing all night. And this time Rick didn't dare deny her, he couldn't. Feeling her sticky juices collect between their bodies was enough to send him right over the very same edge, his cock giving one hard jerk as he finally spilled the first shot of thick load as deep in her as he could get.

Finally pulling away from the kiss, with their sweaty foreheads pressed together, Rick gave her another thrust, making sure every last drop was milked from himself before collapsing onto the mattress, bring her down with him.

* * *

"So is that always what you do when I'm not here?"

Her question was playful, her voice strained.

And Rick had never heard anything more pleasing to his ears. Nor had he ever felt anything better than her sweaty body curled against his chest, one of her arms draped over his waist. And the euphoria that had came after such a good release was what made the walls between them come down even more, making him no longer shy away from such a question.

"Just something I've been meanin' to do." He answered, laughing at the honesty.

And Michonne laughed too. A warm giggle that he could feel vibrating against his skin, one that could have sent him straight to sleep.

"Well, it seems like you've been getting quite a bit accomplished lately." She told him, looking up with a grin on her face. A grin that Rick was positive matched his own when he heard her next words. "You must be quite pleased with yourself."

Truthfully he was quite pleased. How could he not be when he looked down and watched her fingers rub over his bare stomach, amazed at how beautifully her skin contrasted when pressed against his own. Finally, there was nothing between them. No more wondering stares or hesitant touches. And judging by the lighthearted mood, no more hesitant conversations either.

But even if he did want to stay awake all night and talk her ear off, no longer short on words, he knew the open exchanges would have to wait a little longer.

Rick's eyes were growing heavy, his body finally running low on all that extra energy he'd had. Even Michonne's breathing was starting to slow, her hands on his stomach starting to tire.

"There's a few things I still need to take care off." He whispered into the dark room, thinking about the what was next.

Like when the day came that she wasn't quickly fading to sleep in his arms and instead he really could tell her everything he wanted to. Or even the day when he spoke those three words, the ones he knew they'd both felt but never said.

It seemed crazy, and maybe fast. But still, it was one more thing he happily added onto his to-do list before he closing his eyes and whispering goodnight.


End file.
